


Loot

by yeaka



Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 11:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Amelia ponders the map.





	Loot

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Treasure Planet or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The cabin doors should need no key, but Amelia’s had a lock installed—it’s necessary, on a ship like this with a crew like hers. Even thinking of them as _hers_ makes her skin crawl, but she doesn’t show it. She’s a professional no matter who she works for, no matter who she works beside. She hides her distain behind her solemn features, and she locks the room behind her doors. 

The view outside the windows is spectacular. The smaller portholes along the lower deck don’t do it justice, and although standing on deck is a breathtaking experience, there’s still something about being immersed in _space_ whilst still inside. Amelia spends a moment just examining the stars, knowing each and every one and comfortable with their heading. Then she detours for the cabinet along the left wall.

This, too, now requires a key, though all that lies inside is an unmarked box. She deftly pops it open and experiences a tiny bout of relief to find their golden compass still nestled safely inside. For something so small, so seemingly innocuous, it’s magnificent to look at merely for its potential. She gazes at it for a moment before she scoops it up into her claws.

The map Mr. Hawkins brought aboard is a curious little thing. Its yellow shine is worn down like brass, and the lines cut across its surface no longer look as sharp as they once must have. She thinks that in its glory days, it would’ve seemed a treasure all its own. Now it’s marred with mismatched circles and useless patterns bearing no rhyme or reason. Dr. Doppler said as much. Amelia can see it for herself, having known well both the intricate inner workings of a ship and the raw chaos of the stars. She turns it over in her palm, but every surface is the same.

She plays with it, not to open it, only out of wonder. She isn’t surprised that it doesn’t reveal itself to her—tapping, twisting, and prodding at the circles produces no response. Still, she wonders. If it truly is a map to _Treasure Planet_ , what a marvelous thing it is. 

This tiny thing, so light within her hand, could hold the secret to wealth beyond her wildest dreams. It could buy her a new ship, her own, polished and pristine, filled with only the very best that Mr. Arrow could recruit, and their mission would be up to her. She would hold _space itself_ within her hands, for there’s nothing in the universe that Treasure Planet’s riches couldn’t buy. It could all be _hers_.

But she’s a practical woman. As the Terrans say, she doesn’t count her chickens before they hatch. Nor does she horde things for her own; she knows well that a captain never works alone, and besides, now she’s for hire: it’s Dr. Doppler and his young friend that will own the treasure, if treasure there is to have. 

Amelia places the map back in the box. She shuts the lid, closes the cabinet, locks it safe again and retires to her own star charts, while the purple-blue dust clouds of the galaxy dance behind her vision.


End file.
